A/N: First off, I want to thank everyone for reviewing.
The previous chapter was chapter 14, not 13. Typo on my part!!!
Still waiting on the picture challenge... details aren't that important, though. I'd be happy with a sketch. Anime style would be awesome, though!
I just realized something... about 115 people have me on their author's alert lists, so that means I should be expecting at least 50 reviews, not 25. Sorry, but I'm an addict to reviews and I find no shame in that. Feed the muse, she will continue producing!
Disclaimer: Nothing mine
[Author's notes]
-=-=-=-=-=-=15=-=-=-=-=-=-
Snape Aparated at once to the Ministry of Magic, and from there, he Aparated to a small mansion off in the fields of England. It was an elegant four story tutor, situated on a hilly knoll that was then surrounded by a farm. There was a pond in the front, a barn off to the left and open fields for miles. Snape grimaced. He did not like this residence, especially the occupants. But the Order Meetings were now held here, for Grimmauld place had become too cramped, or so that was the excuse. Now, he walked up the cobbled path to the front door, and without knocking, he entered.
Upon Snape's entry, the girl crossing the entrance hall had frozen. Ginny Weasley stared wide-eyed at her potions professor, but in confusion and fear. Snape gave her a disdaining glare, before finally speaking.
"Is your headmaster around, girl?" he asked, not bothering to hide his anger.
"Y-Yes, Professor," Ginny replied quietly, gathering her nerves; "Why would you want him?"
"Business, and that is none of your concern," Snape said; "Shall I find my own way, or are you going to show me there?"
Ginny muttered darkly under her breath as she nodded and began walking towards then up the stairs. Snape followed her at a distance, glaring eyes looking around. He did not like the place at all.
Ginny finally came to the third floor, and took to the left and then to the library. She turned and faced Snape, knocked on the large wooden doors, then shoved past him as she left. Snape glared at her retreating form, and then turned around when the door opened. Arthur Weasley stuck his head out.
"Ah, Severus," he said, "We were just about to call—"
"Save it, Arthur, where is Albus?" Snape interrupted irately as he pushed the door all the way open and pushed past Arthur. He stood to take in the library for a moment, before casting his onyx eyes around the room heatedly. Albus was sitting in a large, overstuffed armchair, by the fire, gazing into the flames as if hypnotized. He never looked up as Snape moved over to the old wizard, never once looking up.
"Albus," Snape said, attempting, though not futilely, to keep his anger hidden; "Tell me something about Harry. Anything..."
"He is the savior of our world, and a very intelligent young man," Dumbledore said musingly, eyes never once leaving the flames. He was deep in thought.
"I am a hairsbreadth away from going into Surrey and slaughtering that horrid bunch of Muggles you gave his care to," Snape seethed; "They have scarred the man for life, Albus! Did you not notice this? Well, did you?"
Dumbledore was silent. He looked up at Severus, who held his breath. The normally twinkling, mischievous eyes were dulled—dramatically. He now resembled the age he was. Dumbledore then looked back at the fire; his bony hands held together in his lap, elbows propped up on the armrests of the chair.
"Is that all you have to say of him, nothing?" Snape asked, malice dripping from his tone; "Well?"
Albus sighed; "What do you want me to tell you, Severus?" he asked tiresomely, looking at the potions master again wearily.
Snape's fists shook as he held them at his sides. /How can the old fool play the mask so damn well?/ he thought. /He's more of a Death Eater than I am! / Snape did not let his emotion show, much. But he eyes did begin to blaze with a furious light, and it was not from the fire.
"What I asked last," Snape finally managed to say through gritted teeth and lips that hardly moved as he did so.
Again, the old wizard sighed, gaze returning to the fire; "Yes," he said finally.
Snape turned around as he heard a gasp, and it had come from Arthur. Snape glared; "Oh, don't act so unknowing, Arthur," he sneered.
"I... what... Albus?" Arthur stuttered; "What is going on? What happened?"
Dumbledore sighed; "I knew what the boy was—"
"Stop referring to him as boy!" Snape roared, exploding; "He is no longer a child, and apparently he's grown up so fast that his maturity surpasses your own! You pompous windbag, I know you'll try to fool me into believing some far fetched tale of how you eventually saved the day! Tell me the truth or I shall find my answers elsewhere! And the only other place I could find answers is in Surrey!"
"Severus, honestly!" Arthur shouted, rushing over and pulling the potions master back as Snape began reaching for his wand.
Dumbledore watched apathetically as this played out, ending with Snape throwing Arthur to the side. The ex-Death Eater let his hand fall away from the hidden compartment within his robe sleeve, leaving his wand secure and away from his twitching hand. How his hand ached to grasp the magical wooden instrument, and bring forth the curses so candidly titled "unforgivable".
"Severus, please," Dumbledore said, sighing; "Now is not time to fight amongst ourselves..."
"Answer me then, before some Muggles find themselves deader than hell!" Snape roared.
"Fine, Severus, you wish to know? I will tell you," Dumbledore said, frustrated annoyance lining his tone; "It has not gone without me knowing how Harry has been treated. But I too, was a fool to believe him when he wrote saying that he was fine. I cannot see the soul, so I had no knowing of his inner teenage angst."
"Teenage angst? Teenage angst?!" Severus roared; "Harry has suffered more than a thousand score of adults, Albus, and his angst is clearly more than that and justified in that sense!"
"Severus, I will not tolerate your insolence any longer!" Dumbledore shouted.
Snape grew silent at the statement, staring at the man who had unknowingly admitted his thoughts, his obsession, of power. Dumbledore was now rising from the chair, and soon, he stood eye-to-eye with the potions master. Snape stared defiantly back.
"I suggest you go now to tend to your duties and obligations," Dumbledore said, though there seemed to be a hiss behind the words. His eyes were sparkling with anger, pupils narrowing.
Snape nodded, seeing the old man's hand grasping his wand. Wordlessly, he backed away, but not before saying; "You know, Albus, for a moment you had me fooled."
And thus saying, he Aparated, and was gone, leaving a very astonished Arthur still on the floor in shocked silence and a very angered and frustrated Wizengamot Leader.
The large, open parlor was occupied by several bodies, magical folk who seemed normal, dressed normal, and carried wands, even. But none had use for sticks. Sabet sat in a chair at a table by the Large Windows, overlooking the cliffs and the waters below. Magical illusions, but he considered them beautiful and a gateway to his never-failing imagination. Sabet looked around the gathering of Vampires. Eight, all of whom he had personally requested. Now, they talked casually with one another, idly asking of each other's lives. But they were all weary of their leader, unknowing of their obligation to come. None could penetrate the fortress of a mind, and so were left in excepted bewilderment.
Sabet decided it was time to break the lull and get to the business he had been postponing for too long; "Please, may everyone have a seat?"
The question was more statement, yet everyone paid heed to it none the less and they all took seats. Sabet looked around them all. Manuel Hunt, from London, a once famous Auror for the Ministry, now a vampire driven into hiding after his father had been found as one of them and killed. Within the group there was another Auror still gone undetected, Adam Spalther, and another, Damien Riggs, along with Jabez Wilscott, a Scotsman, Amos Branston, from the native France, and Faust Ulrich, who hailed from France as well. And, last but not least, was Morgan Le Faye, the only known and living Female Vampire.
Sixteen eyes watched Sabet, eight forms still and mouths frozen silent. Sabet closed his eyes, finalizing his thoughts, then slowly his naturally hooded eyes.
"As you all know, our Winter Equinox is to come at an earlier time this year," he began, "And, as you all read the wizarding papers, there is ...a great risk amongst their race. We all know the Equinox brings both power and weakness to anything and everything with magical heritage, though Wizards are lucky that the effects on them are so mild they do not detect them. What I am coming to is that Harry Potter, our own, has yet to experience the side effects of the Equinox. As it affects us all differently, I fear that Mr. Malfoy will not be able to handle him on his own."
"Are you proposing that we fetch him at the given time and bring him here?" Morgan asked, her jade eyes watching Sabet, though they were constantly glancing at the window.
Sabet nodded; "That can be arranged," Manuel mused, idly staring at the small hole in his robe sleeve; "An acquaintance of mine, Kinglsey Shacklebolt, is within the Order and sees Harry regularly. He could tell me what is going on when the school starts, and then we can arrange something."
"Ya still in contact with Wizards?!" Jabez exclaimed; "Afta they've bin tryin' ta kill ye? Are ya daft, man?"
"Kinglsey is very trustworthy, and he is not completely agreeing to the Order's endeavors," Manuel stated calmly, "We went to school together, anyway, my standing and his obligation do not come into the way of friendship."
"Je parie d'autres choses font," Amos muttered to Faust. Faust chuckled dryly, covering his mouth with a hand and shaking his head in mirth.
"What did you say?" Manuel asked warningly.
"Nothing, dearest Manuel," Amos said earnestly, in his clearest English; "Merely a small... l'échange de mots," he finished in French, covering his mouth again to suppress a chuckle. Again, Faust did the same.
Manuel silently fumed, and Adam rolled his eyes; "They say nothing of importance, Manuel," he said; "Ignore them."
Sabet silently chuckled at the gathering. Being the youngest of those present, Amos and Faust tended to cause more tension. Though they were intelligent and cunning, both could be idiots at times. Still, it brought comic relief, and Sabet did not interfere.
Draco remained in the kitchen, thinking still, for thirty more minutes. Finally, when he felt a headache rising at the back of his skull, he shook his head, and grabbed the blade as he left. Draco turned the weapon over in his hands, before finally closing it. He went up the steps quiet as air, and, placing the knife on a small table on the wall, he proceeded in walking into Harry's room.
The dark-haired vampire was still lying on the bed, curled up and facing the window. Vibrant green eyes met the sky outside, hued over in a haze of thought. Draco quietly walked over, sitting on the bed. He watched Harry, before lying down before him.
"Are you feeling better?" he asked quietly, hand reaching out to grasp Harry's.
Harry's eyes fell on the blonde, and he smiled slightly; "Yeah," he said just as softly; "...You like playing nursemaid, don't you?"
Draco smirked; "It passes the time," he replied; "But no, not really."
"It's funny how you can be so patient with me, and not everything else," Harry mused.
"Well, you're just that special exception," Draco whispered, leaning in.
Harry closed the gap, lips coming to meet Draco's. It was short, but the contact itself seemed to last forever. Harry pulled away, and Draco stared at him. The blonde sighed before resting his head against Harry's chest. Harry, who had just realized how close they had become, wrapped and arm around Draco. Looking past the tuft of blonde hair, he stared, troubled, out the window, his mixed emotions warring within his already diluted mind.
"Now, one final topic," Sabet said; "The wizard's affairs are becoming very... dangerous to their kind..."
"Tell me about it," Damien said; "The Minister's a wreck, what with dealing with Voldemort and his huge family, plus the Order."
Unlike the wizards, the vampires didn't need to fear Voldemort. Once the Death Eaters had approached Sabet and his Council, and after a horrible battle, and the defeat of the Death Eaters, Voldemort knew Sabet wanted nothing to do with them. They were in the clear, the vampires were.
"We can't meddle," Morgan said, "It's too dangerous for us."
"Yeah, buh wha' if our own've been thrown inta the fray?" Jabez asked.
"'Arry Potter, you mean," Amos said; "Draco could easily back out."
"No he could not," Sabet said; "The Death Eaters are unknowing to his lineage. The magic in his veins gives them the reason to burden him with unwanted commitment to their own."
"And Harry?" Morgan asked.
"Well, he's the poor person that damned race has shoved into the light of battle, of course," Manuel mumbled musingly, looking out the window.
"Which is why he is so troubled," Morgan whispered; "We should kill every damn one of them in the Order for what they've done to him."
"Revenge is not a worthy accomplice, more so a deadly adversary," Sabet said wisely; "What has happened has happened, and so it has passed. We can only safeguard the future."
Everyone nodded solemnly, agreeing silently with the statement.
"So... if it comes to such, shall we interfere?" Faust asked.
"Yes, of course we will," Manuel said immediately; "As the Heads of the Council, it is our duty, our obligation. We cannot let Harry, nor Draco, face this alone."
"The only problem is," Morgan said; "Will they accept our help?"
"Draco knows we will aid him," Sabet said; "It is our creed: 'Leave not a soul to fend alone, to be united is to stand the strongest.' Harry will accept it, in time, when he gets to the point where his trades stubbornness for rational reflection."
Again, the others solemnly nodded.
"What are we to do, Albus? Severus is near breaking away! If we lose him—!"
"We won't lose him, Arthur, trust in that. He cannot go anywhere."
Arthur looked at Dumbledore blankly. They had yet to leave the library, had not spoken for some time after Snape's defiant departure. Unable to keep his queries secret, Arthur had spoken first. But now, his "leader's" statement drew blank pages to the tainted canvas of his polluted mind.
"Sir?" he asked again.
Dumbledore sighed; "Arthur, where could he go?" he asked; "He cannot betray the order, he will either be disowned by our world or harmed. And if he were to return to the Dark Lord..."
"We would throw him in Azkaban," Arthur whispered; "I knew I should have arrested him while we were at his home! I knew I should have!"
"No, that would have done no good;" Dumbledore said; "Harry and Draco would have become reckless and possibly would have killed themselves trying to right what they thought was wrong..."
"Albus," Arthur said; "I am starting to become... worried, when it comes to Harry. I mean, you can feel his aura, there's an unnatural glow to his eyes. He's changed, there's something that's happened that we don't know about..."
"There is nothing that I am unaware of," Dumbledore said; "You forget, Arthur, that I have eyes everywhere. Nothing goes without me knowing of it."
"Of course, Albus, I know, I know, it's just..."
"No, Arthur, the boy is just rebelling. He will come to his senses. He better..."
Remus and Kingsley listened from outside of the library, both holding gasps of outrage. Remus had heard the initial argument between Snape and Dumbledore, and had alerted Kingsley as well. Now, both decided to quietly make their way from the doors, heading instead for the lower floors. They did not speak, only walked together in silence. They soon exited the large mansion, intent on leaving. But Kingsley stopped, head arched back and eyes scanning the sky. Remus stopped, and did as well.
Ron and Ginny we flying on brooms, circling the estate. But they were not racing.
"Ignore them," Remus whispered almost inaudibly.
Kingsley nodded; "We should find Severus," he said as they continued.
"Yes," Remus said; "I have a feeling that he may do something that could endanger his very being."
Vernon Dursley muttered under his breath as he walked into his home. It was late, the sun had set and the house was quiet. His wife and son were slumbering in their beds. Slinging his jacket onto the coat rack, Vernon went down the hallway, but when passing the living room he caught a shadow. The shadow sat in a chair in the corner of the room. Vernon could see ghostly white hands holding to a wand, elbows contently resting on the armrests. The face, he could not make out, for it was hidden by a hood.
"Who are you?" he asked angrily, all the while edging towards the hallway telephone.
The figure rose, and ghosted over towards him. Vernon squeaked, voice lost to him as his throat caught and his mouth dried clean of saliva. The figure managed a wheezy chuckle, before holding the wand out.
"The last thing you'll ever see, Muggle..."
And, in a dawning moment of superior intelligence, Vernon knew that his wife and son were dead or gone. Fearfully he backed away, but the figure's free hand shot out like lightening, grasping his collar and shoving him to the wall.
"Where is the boy?" the figure hissed, shrouded head dangerously close to Vernon's.
"Wh-wh-who?" Vernon managed to utter, voice drenched in fear.
"Where is Harry Potter?!" the figure yelled, the tone of his own voice laced with the intent of death. The anger was clear, and the motive was strong in it.
"H-he ran away!" Vernon replied, cringing as the hand shot from collar to neck. Slowly, breath was lacking when the hand tightened around the stout flesh.
"P-please, I d-don't kn-now where h-h-he is!" Vernon begged, begged like the cornered coward that he was.
"That, Muggle, is the wrong answer," the hooded figure whispered, face drawing pack as the hand released its hold.
Vernon drew in a raspy breath, only to feel the wand's tip just above his heart. His eyes dropped to the wand, then steadily, slowly, unwillingly rose, only to meet the darkness of the shadowed face.
The only words next uttered hung in the air before the eminent blast of green...
"Avada Kadavra..."
The green engulfed the man, coursing through him, before the light exploded. The hooded figure stepped back, allowing the lifeless body to fall to the floor. Now the man was dead, and since the wife and son were out they would not matter. This served enough as a warning.
Laughing quietly, the hood fell back as a ghostly hand pulled it away. Tom Riddle, otherwise known as Voldemort, laughed quietly, maliciously, callously, as he kicked the obese, fast-deteroriating body. By the time the spell took affect, nothing would be left.
And thus, satisfied with his work, Voldemort Disapparated, leaving the scene, the house, and even Surrey, far, far behind as he fled to the Malfoy Manor.
A/N: ooh twist! Voldemort is back, Remus and Kingsley go Snape-hunting, Dumbledore's the evil bastard, Vernon is dead, and oh, Arthur's been manipulated into servitude! Plus, Harry and Draco share quiet time. Hmm, what shall I think of next?
I expect about 50 reviews, or you'll never find out.
I know, I'm mean, but I did the math and have found that around 50 reviews are only fair.